


100 Ways To Say I Love You

by alpha_al



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29428413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpha_al/pseuds/alpha_al
Summary: There are many ways to say I love you.A series of one-shots about Carrie and Yevgeny saying "I love you" without realizing it, from the missing two years period. Each chapter focuses on a different way to say it.CHAPTER 6 IS NEW
Relationships: Carrie Mathison/Yevgeny Gromov, Yevgeny Gromov/Carrie Mathison
Comments: 46
Kudos: 88





	1. “We’ll figure it out.”

"Where are you taking me?"

Yevgeny ignores Carrie, continuing to drive.

"I said where are you taking me?" she raises her voice.

He narrows his eyes at her, “Ramallah?”

“No, I know we’re going there, I mean after.”

“You know where you’re going,” he says finally, keeping his eyes on the road.

Carrie’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing as she finds her voice. “What do you mean, _ I know _ ?”

“I mean, you know,” he replies, keeping his voice as calm as he dares. “They will never stop looking for you, you have to stay in a safe place. Which, I’m sorry to say, is Russia.”

She’s been slouched in the seat next to him, guarded and careful not to give too much away in her body language but now she sits up slowly, her muscles tight as her voice takes on a pitch that matches her change in expression.

“Stop the car.”

Yevgeny looks over and obeys, pulling off the road and onto the shoulder, killing the engine before leaning back against the seat. 

“What do you want?” he asks quietly, watching the way she remains still and unmoving, like a bomb on the edge of explosion.

“I want out of this car.”

“Not an option,” he replies instantly, and in the seconds it’s taken her to move her body he has already locked the doors. He watches as she tries desperately to open the door, her fingers pulling the handle.

“What is your problem, Carrie?” He watches her face, the way her shoulders rise and drop, the way her throat constricts and releases.

“You!” she snaps, resisting the urge to scream. She holds his gaze as if challenging him to fight, to retaliate, to give her something to refute. Instead, he just keeps watching her.

“Can you tell me how I’m going to get in Russia, Yevgeny? Because I tore up all my documents as you said.” She punctuates the words with a smug grin, almost as if she’s proud of the fact that he’s managed to miss this critical piece of information.

“We’ll figure it out.”, he  shrugs.

“This is not up to you,” she bites out roughly. “This is not your fight.”

“This is my fight in every way that it is yours,” he refutes, starting the car again. 

He sees the flicker in her eyes, the touch of anxiety that presses in around her pupils, but chooses to ignore it as he maneuvers the car back onto the road. Carrie turns her head towards the window so that he can’t see her face, and it’s a different sort of mask than the one that he’s used to seeing her put on when she’s forced to hide her emotions in plain sight.

“Just drive, Yevgeny,” she says finally, her voice suddenly sounding a thousand years old. “Drive and get me the hell out of here.”


	2. “I want you to have this.”

Back in the car, the next hour is mainly silent ones and seeing the cityscape of Ramallah rise out of the distance is a sight that’s both comforting and unnerving. 

Carrie stares at Yevgeny in silence, and he can see her, out of the corner of his eyes.

He shifts in his seat, trying to hide his discomfort. He can feel her gaze like a tangible thing, like the heat of a physical touch, spreading through his body.

“What?” he asks, when he can no longer keep his focus on the road.

Carrie looks away, facing the windshield and the road before them. “Nothing,” she says, but her voice sounds concerned. She remains silent for a while before she asks, “Are we coming?” 

“Yep”, he says and his phone starts to ring. He feels around for his phone, having left it sitting in one of the cup holders. He grasps it, it is his contact. He swipes at the screen and holds the phone to his ear. He starts to speak in Russian and later he takes an address, which he punches into the car’s GPS.

“We are near the meeting point,” he says to Carrie, like he wants to calm her.

Once he reaches the address, he pulls up in front of an old building. 

“Here,” he says and Carrie unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the car door.

“Wait a minute,” he reaches out to her arm to stop her. She shifts in her seat and turns to look at him. He remains unmoving for a while, like he is thinking for the next move.

He leans over to access the glove compartment. He pulls out a gun and hands it to Carrie.  “I want you to have this,” he says.

She looks at the gun for a moment. What does that mean, is everything gonna turn to shit? It’s like a deja vu, him giving her a gun but this time it’s him who wants to do that, not her. She sighs and finally takes it. “Okay.”

“Just in case,” he says looking at her, his voice serious.

Nodding, Carrie gets out of the car.

Yevgeny leads the way in the building, stepping with confidence when all Carrie wants to do is shrink away and head back to the car. She moves closer to him and he looks down with a slight frown. She expects him to say something, but he doesn’t. He knocks three times on a door and a few seconds later a young guy opens the door. He inclines his head in greeting and motions for them to come inside.

Carrie follows Yevgeny as he steps inside. She looks around and it’s like an apartment, a living space. They sit on a sofa and she drops her bag on the floor, between her feet.

Yevgeny starts to talk with the guy in Russian but Carrie cuts them off. “Can you talk in English please?”

The guy gives Carrie an annoyed look but before he can say anything, his eyes catch on something in Yevgeny’s hand.

“Ali, here is what you asked for.” Yevgeny says and hands him an envelope, surely with money inside.

He looks inside of it and nods. 

“So, can you tell us when you can go to Syria?” Yevgeny asks him.

“We have to wait until the evening, it's less riskier in the dark.” he says and moves his eyes to look at Carrie. “Who are you?” he asks her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yevgeny replies for her, not giving her time to answer the question. “We agreed, no questions,” he adds with a sigh, “Did you bring what I asked you before?”

“Not yet, you will get them in the next two hours,” Ali replies.

“Also she needs a new clean passport, I want to know if you know anyone who can help us.”

“I can make a few calls,” he says after a while and sits up. “You can stay here until we move on.”


	3. “You didn’t have to ask.”

Ali enters the room where Carrie and Yevgeny are staying, sitting on the sofa. “I made a few calls, there is a guy who can do it for one week,” he says, looking at Yevgeny.

Yevgeny sighs, getting up and approaching him. “No, you don’t understand, I want the passport as soon as possible. Can you call him back, I want to talk to him.”

Ali calls his friend and passes the phone to Yevgeny. Carrie stays there, just listening to what Yevgeny is saying on the phone. 

“Hello. Look, I want it as soon as possible. I can’t wait one week. Let it be in two days. I will double the payment. Yes. Woman, on the fortieth. We can talk later for the details.” 

When he is done, Ali takes back the phone and leaves the room.

Yevgeny turns around to face Carrie. “Good,” he says. He smiles down at her. “All done.”

“Am I going to Russia with a new identity? That was the whole point of all this, right?”

He nods slowly, “Yes. But I need you to be sure that this is what you want.”

She sighs, getting up and  walking the short distance to the window.  “Apparently I'm on the most wanted americans list, you know.” She says,  still glancing out the window.

“Yeah, well. I can protect you only if you come to Russia, I can help you to take the  political asylum ,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder. “But, with a new identity you can also go where you want.”

She  half turns around, tossing over her shoulder,  “It’s not that simple,” she replies sadly, a modicum of regret behind her tone. “They’ll never stop looking, no matter where I go, or how many times I change my hair. I put myself out there. I made the sacrifice, but in doing so, I only made myself more of a target.”

“I know,” he says quietly and walks away from her. “So you tell me, Carrie. You tell me what you want.”

Carrie moves from the window and picks up her bag, putting it on the table. She sighs, spreading her hands along the table, slim fingers spread tightly across the length of the table. “I have no choice, I will come to Russia, but don’t pretend I will  give you any classified information ”, she finally says.

“Okay,” he admits. He  eyes her cautiously,  “What is it?"

"What is what?"

"The thing you're not saying," he says. Her face doesn't change at all, which is its own tell. “What, do you think I don't know you at all? Just tell me.”

“It's just a little hard to buy,” Carrie bites out, brittle. “This whole noble, I'll-care-for-you routine.”

“It's not a routine,” Yevgeny snaps, "Jesus, you are so frustrating sometimes, of course it's not--Carrie! There's nothing noble about any of this. Whether you believe this or not right now, there are things that matter a lot more to me than some fucking information from you.”

“Oh, like what?”

“Like you trusting me, for one thing,” he says, and knows how bitter it must sound. “Like all the shit you don't remember, for another. And if you're really doubting my ability to help, we can fix that real quick.”

Carrie's mouth twists, and it's a bitter expression,  but Yevgeny doesn't miss the flash of hope underneath. “Oh yeah? How's that?”

“You can tell me to go, Carrie. And you will never see me again.” His voice is cold and clipped, a challenge.

“You can leave if you want,” she  says and feels the bottom drop out of her stomach.

He looks at her a little sadly, his eyes moving across her body, and shakes his head. “Of course I don't,” he says. "You know I don't. You've always been better, I know it, you know it, but I've never known you to be stupid just because you're scared.”

“I am not scared.”

“Then you're doing a damn fine job of faking it," he snaps. She glares at him, not backing down, and he punches out a harsh breath and adds, “God. I don't want to do this with you, okay, I just. I'm just trying to help.”

“It shouldn’t matter to you-”

“Well that’s absolute bullshit-”

“I didn’t ask you to!” Carrie snaps.

Yevgeny's mouth twists, “ You didn’t have to ask. I would help you no matter what. ”


	4. “Be careful.”

“You ready? We have to move on.” Yevgeny says when he sees Carrie coming from the bathroom. 

She nods.  He grabs her bag, then breezes out of the room. He waits for Carrie to exit before shutting the door behind her. He gestures for her to go before him down the stairs. 

Ali is waiting outside the building. “Here is what you asked,” he says and hands Yevgeny two cellphones. 

“Thanks,” he says, and puts one of them in his pocket.

“I will wait in the truck,” Ali says.

“At the first sign of trouble, call me.” 

Ali nods and turns to walk towards his truck.

Yevgeny turns around to face Carrie and hands the other cellphone to her. 

“Your new phone,” he says and she takes it. “Call me when you get there. My number is in the contacts list.”

“Okay.  I'll make sure to call,” she says glancing at the phone in her hand. Then she looks  up at him. “Thank you,” she says quietly. 

He nods and a hand moves to her arm. “See you in the next few days.” He assures her, hand slowly moving up and down in a soothing motion. He is not sure how much hope she has but for her sake he puts on a brave face. He doesn’t want her to worry any more than she already is.

Carrie tilts her head, tongue running over her top row of teeth before she releases the tension that has been building in her shoulders.  She closed her eyes for a second, then took the bag from his hand.

She leaves him abruptly and walks away.

Despite knowing he helped her, a part of her still hates him for having tricked her, it will take her a little while longer to forgive him.

As she is approaching the truck, Yevgeny calls out, “Carrie!”

She turns around to look at him, a tired expression on her face.

“Be careful.”

She nods and continues to walk to the truck.

“You too,” she murmurs.  If she replies, he doesn’t hear anything.

He watches her  climbing into the truck . And pray it isn’t the last time to see her.


	5. “There is enough room for both of us.”

“Come out!” Carrie hears Ali’s voice from the back of the truck. 

“We arrived?” she asks, when he opens the door.

“No, we are not going tonight.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” she hops off the truck and grabs his arm violently, “Hey! We have to go now!”

“Easy, I don’t take orders from you Americans! Talk with your friend!” He pulls his arm from her grasp and inclines in the direction of his left.

“My friend?!” 

“Carrie!” she hears Yevgeny’s voice calling her out and she turns her head in his direction. In however long it’s been since she left, he’s changed into jeans and a long sleeved blue t-shirt. 

“Hey!”, Enough!” He grabs her by the arm and drags her in a corner of the street. He feels her tenses and shivers at the contact so he let go of her almost immediately.

“What is going on? What are you doing here?”, her  tone is angry and confused. 

“You are not going tonight,” he replies instantly.

“Yeah, I learnt that, but why?”

“Not here, come with me.” He lowers his voice, putting a hand in her arm.

“No,” Carrie shakes her head and takes a step back, “I’m full of your bullshit! I’m not going with you anywhere.” 

His eyes wide in an incredulous expression, like her words are the stupidest, most ludicrous thing he has ever heard. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” he asks in a raised tone. He grabs her hands, forcing them down and he stares into her eyes. “Look, I will explain everything, but we can’t stay here in the street. It’s dangerous.” 

He lets her hands go and starts to walk away. Away from that corner, away from her, leaving her alone. She is shocked, she doesn’t know what to do. Instinctively she starts to follow him, with her eyes fixed on his back. She is too numb with anger, fear and panic to think properly. He takes her deeper and deeper into that alley, then has her turn left, then right and left again. And again. Until she gets lost. Until he slides open a door and invites her inside. It looks like a hostel, but there is nobody in the hallway. He heads her upstairs and then unlocks a door and gestures her in a room.  Carrie steps in and looks around. That place was too plain, a picture on the wall, a double bed in the middle of the room, a closet, a dresser and a chair.

“We are staying here tonight,” Yevgeny says with the same casual tone, “I need a coffee. There was a bar just a few meters from here. What can I get you? Coffee?”

“Coffee’s fine.”

He leaves her in the room and Carrie lets herself sit on the bed. She forces herself to breathe slowly. She clenches her fists and resists the urge to flee really far away. To dash out of that room. She needs some fresh air, but she can’t go outside. The room has a balcony, so she gets up and walks towards it and then stands outside the door, leaning on the wall. She relaxes a bit before she hears the door click opened.

“Here,” Yevgeny says, holding out a cup of coffee. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles as she takes the paper cup from his hand.

He leans on the wall next to her.

“Where are we here?” she asks quietly.

“A village thirty miles from the border. This was the only place I could find to spend the night.” he clarifies, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Why couldn't I go tonight?” Carrie asks.

“Because it was too risky,” he keeps his voice calm.

She frowns at him, “Ali didn’t say that. He said to me to talk with ‘my friend’. What is to talk about? It was your decision, right?” 

He glances at her, “Before you left, Ali called me and said that his friend guard on the border would not be alone tonight and it was still a risk for our truck to be checked by the guards. But he wanted to go anyway and I agreed.”

She narrows her eyes at him slightly, “Why I wasn’t aware of that?”

“I--” he swallows, “I didn’t want to increase your distress.” 

She snorts, all bitterness and no humor. “And what happened that changed your mind?”

“I thought a lot about it again and I had a bad feeling. That something wasn't right, we didn’t have enough time to plan this. And after I called Ali to come here. Tomorrow I’m going to talk with him again.”

She studies him silently, caution and distress in her face, eyes vaguely haunted. Then she stares down at the half-emptied cup of coffee in her hands and sighs, “I’m tired of your plans. And I don't know how to do this,” she murmurs and grips on her cup a little too tight, enough to spill some coffee on her shirt. 

“Fuck!” she snaps and turns back abruptly to the room. She takes her shirt off, but then she finds out she has forgotten her bag in the truck. 

“Shit,” she murmurs under her breath and collapses onto the bed. She lies on her side, eyes wide open, thoughts swirling. She turns on her stomach, face down on the sheets as tears fill her eyes.

“Carrie?!” she hears the slight panic in his voice as he enters the room, after a moment.

A sob erupts from her with such strength that she feels him jump next to her.  She feels his weight on the bed but she doesn't move.  She hides her face in her hands as she sobs uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face. Her mind is a mess, everything hurts and she’s so, so tired. 

“You okay?” He cautiously sits near to her, unsure if she will pull away from him again. The last thing he wants is to cause her more distress.

She sighs, heavy and heartbreaking. “I forgot my bag of clothes in the truck.” she simply says.

“But you are not crying for this, right?” 

She doesn't answer; she can’t even face him. Part of her wants to speak with him, to tell what she feels in that moment. Part of her wants to be alone with her thoughts. She fails to control the sob that leaves her lips, and simply shakes her head.

Another moment passes before she feels something covering her. She doesn't look, even when she feels him stand up away from the bed, his footsteps sounding to her right as he opens a door. She peeks then and sees Yevgeny, shirtless, by a closet. She gasps. He retrieves another shirt and puts it on. He closes the wardrobe door and she locks eyes through the mirror that appears. His eyes have no emotion on them as he averts his gaze and walks out of the room, closing the door without a sound.

She slowly stands up on the bed, still trying to control her gasping breathing. She dresses the item of clothing he put on her; his shirt. His scent involves her, and it instantly calms her down.

He returns back later with her bag in his hand. He puts it on the dresser and turns to leave when she asks in a low voice, “Where are you going?”

“Just around. You don’t have to worry,” Yevgeny starts, “You can have the bed, I can sleep… wherever” he scratches the back of his head in embarrassment.

“You can stay here. There is enough room for both of us.” 

_ Don’t leave me alone.  _ She wants to add.

He stares at her for a moment and leaves her without saying anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Yevgeny come back to the room??? :P   
> Next chapter in next 3 days :)


	6. “You can do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, new chapter following the previous one. Sorry if it's short but I wanted to post it as soon as possible. Enjoy it!

Carrie wakes up startled by the sound of the room door closing. The room is dark, and she forces her eyes to identify the tall figure standing by the door. Not that she needs to; she knows it’s Yevgeny. She pretends to be asleep as he stops right in front of her.

“You kept my shirt,” he says like he’s surprised.

She had; after he left her, she had put her gun ( _ his gun _ ) under her pillow and immediately got in bed. 

She hears him go to the other side of the bed and sit down. She hears his shoes hit the floor as he throws them somewhere across the room. Then he’s laying beside her with a sigh.

“I never- I never wanted this to happen to you, but I know you can,” he pauses briefly, “ You can do it. ”

Her body tenses, but she keeps quiet. 

He lets out a humorless chuckle, “I know you’re awake.” 

She hears him move to his side, and feel as his fingers pat on her hair. 

“I’ll let you know this, though.” he says, “I am not...a good person. I’ve done a lot of bad shit, and I will keep doing so. But, I promise I will keep you safe.”

She stays quiet, even as she feels tears sliding down to her temple. His words shouldn’t make her feel like this; like she matters. Like he loves her. She believes he doesn’t; not really. But she can’t stop the warmth that fills her heart at hearing his words and feeling his hand in her hair. She stays like that until she falls asleep.

A few hours pass and Yevgeny wakes with a gasp.

He glances around as his eyes adjust to the darkness. He immediately looks to his right, relieved to find her still asleep, breath soft and slow against the pillow. He resists the urge to sweep a stray lock of hair behind her ear, knowing how fickle her own sleep tends to be. He can almost hear her slow breathing if it isn't for his heart beating like crazy against his chest. He satisfies himself with looking at her, clad in his shirt, until his heart rate returns to normal and the residual fear subsides. That dream. He won't be able to fall back asleep anytime soon.

He needs some fresh air. He gets up slowly and tiptoes to reach the balcony door. The night was chilly. He glances down to check on the street. He stays there for a while. He turns to go back in the room, but sliding the door close without making a racket is quite a challenge on its own and a gust of wind makes it slams.

The noise wakes Carrie up, instantly her eyes are open, fingers reaching for the gun she keeps under her pillow.

“Just me.”

She blinks the last vestiges of sleep out of her eyes to see Yevgeny’s darkened silhouette hovering over her.

“Is something happening?” she asks in a low voice.

“No, go back to sleep,” he assures her.

“Why are you up at,” she squints at her watch, trying to make out the tiny clock pointer, “four am?”

“It’s nothing. I woke up and I couldn't sleep,” he explains and lies down back on the bed.

He closes his eyes but he can’t sleep. He turns around when he hears her breath becomes slow and soft. He doesn't know how long he stayed like that, looking at her. Like she is precious and terribly fragile.  He can’t stop himself looking at her  as her face slowly becomes more visible by the hazy blue of the first light of dawn. 


End file.
